Q Report; Q Explodes Charlie Sheen.
10-3-25 18:40 Airborne Over The Pacific –
[Report Follows.]
Jesus Christ on the wooden cross I just exploded Charlie Sheen all sorts of dead and it feels so good I could shit. And I will. Why not when you’re in a pressurized suit wearing a diaper? I should really be sitting down at a typewriter to transcribe this classic prose, but we’re going to let fly over the in-flight data recorder and straight pipe it to the future-phone while I get high off of pure O2. Hold on. Have to change the mixture.
[Sound of clicking.]
There. As I speak to you I am currently piloting a QF-16B somewhere over The Pacific. The QF-16B is really just a classic F-16 Fighting Falcon trainer variant that permanently sacrifices weapons systems for fuel pods. It has the benefit of being made after the perfection of carbon fiber which means its maximum speed has been increased to Mach 3 while its range has increased to everything. The Guild RD that built it for me claims that it can reach Mach 4, but I would have to be breathing liquid. Has two seats. If I wanted to I could get another person in here, but most everyone I know is dead. Otherwise I could take someone for a ride at Mach 3. 4 if they are into breathing oxygenated nutrient liquid with me. Basically my only armament is my Vulcan Cannon which I keep loaded with explosive uranium shells wrapped around a white phosphorus inner layer wrapped around a plastique core. It fires at a rate of 200 rounds per second and can atomize a church in about two.
With this amazing piece of aeronautical engineering I just blew Charlie Sheen all over Gods damned kingdom. This is a good day. I thought that man was going to live forever. He is as close to a nemesis as a swashbuckler can have. Made all the right moves over the course of the late eighties and early nineties only to revolt against the system and go ape-shit early in the 21st. Of course everything was so close to the global collapse at that point that it was big news when he snapped. As if an actor had never been fired before. Made a Guinness world record for most twitter fans. Celebrated with his drug dealers until the big collapse. In the in-between he managed to create a ragtag militia of fans and got his hands on some pretty neat equipment. Managed to stay underground for long enough that the tech caught up with the destruction and here we are. Me in my QF-16B. Charlie Sheen and the corpse of Denise Richards in his XR-71 Deathbird.
I just have to take a minute and see how much Charlie Sheen I’ve really seen. My memory fades because I am fast approaching 45, I take a bevy of memory erasing drugs to function, and I am super high on an O2 concentrate while cruising towards the sunset at Mach 3 and Charlie Sheen is finally dead. So… uh… The Chase. I don’t even know why I remember that movie first. Him in a stolen car driving with a hot blonde. Three Musketeers. Will admit I loved it, if not for the stain of disney. Hot Shots parts one and deux. Classic Sheen right there. Taps. Never seen it? Join the club. Tattoos the backs of his hands though. But not for reals. Was he in Wall Street? Probably not. Uh. Two and a Half Men. What a bad show. My folks watched it I guess. I thought it was a painful atrocity of a situational comedy. That kid [presumably the half] went on to kill so very many nice people.
As I think of it now… I probably didn’t hate him as much as he deserved. I guess the initial resentment came when he left that terrible show in a terrible way. Because I used to act, and it was still considered a profession when I did it. Threw away the last of his class to appear as the next Gonzo. But Charlie Sheen has never been Gonzo. Once you take disney money you can never go Gonzo. It’s fun doing drugs, but it helps if you actually create something or better something while doing them. People used to do them every day in an insane society where a person with enough money could take a pill to make them happy but the poor were thrown in jail for doing the same thing on the cheap. And maybe that’s what drove Charlie Sheen to the madness. Maybe he echoed it. I tried smoking Charlie Sheen once. But only that once. If Denise Richards had my babies I would treat her right. I would not FUBAR everything I cherished to go on a binge of self-indulgent and meaningless ranting. I would not plasticize her corpse and use it as a masturbation tool. You are no warlock sir. I know warlocks. I have worked with them. I have fought warlocks and you sir, are no warlock.
I suppose I should explain the actual battle. I think I’ve filed at least three other reports regarding Charlie Sheen and his Hot Shots. I think Charlie Sheen was the last one left. I pinged him on the radar about… oh WTF time is it now? 18:42? Oh the gun camera will have a time stamp. I don’t know. Probably about five minutes from initial radar contact to engagement. I know that his plane was faster and better armed than mine. The XR-71 is just a carbonized SR-71 with lasers. Lasers are… awesome. I will admit that I was a bit intimidated when the serial scan came back that Charlie Sheen was in the Deathbird. I know that he keeps Denise in it. He only takes that jet out when he wants to kill many things. Lasers… you in the past probably never saw what lasers can do. Back then it was all prisms and telemetry guidance and laser pointers. But actual lasers with actual power are… really terrifying. Superheating atoms with focused light is all fun and games until you can counter-explode ordinance or start entire villages on fire. Then it becomes a profession.
So once it was established that it was the plane I hailed him. We both changed to direct vectors and… oh man. I remember math problems like this. Agent Q piloting a QF-16 and traveling at Mach 3 leaves Hawaii at 19:00 PST and Charlie Sheen, piloting a XR-71 traveling at Mach 3.5 leaves Wyoming at 21:00 MST. If every clock on the planet is broken and everyone is dead, why would you ever need to know when they can fire guns at one another? So I hailed him about the time it was obvious we were going to have to dog fight to the death and I think I can do a direct patch of the dialogue from the flight recorder. Here we go. There you go Charlie, sent your last words back through the future phone. Speak kindly of me in hell. Uh. The computer system was built by a damned puritan so it might be edited for content. Sorry.
[Sounds of Clicking.]
[Flight Recorder T/R 18:35]
Q: Charlie Sheen! You Crazy f*****! I’ll kill you!
CS: Not if I kill you first Q. Your mother sucks cocks in hell!
Q: Donna is a saint in heaven you sad has-been! You sound old!
CS: You sound scared. You know I’m in the Deathbird.
Q: I’m not scared of you, old man. Maybe you should look at your radar.
CS: Oh ho! Not running away?
Q: You’re going down this time Sheen.
CS: After I fry you in your cockpit like a microwave burrito I’m going to start Bemidji on fire.
Q: Bemidji is still on fire you dolt.
CS: Talk to me Denise.
Q: Oh Jesus. You really do drive around with her in the back seat?
CS: Don’t talk about Denise like she’s not here.
Q: She’s dead you sick fiend! She’s been dead for two decades!
CS: I’m a warlock you idiot! I commune with the dead!
Q: You plasticized her you sick, sick fiend!
CS: She was mostly plastic to begin with, I just finished the job.
Q: You know what I’d like to talk about Sheen?
CS: Don’t. Let’s keep this above the belt.
Q: Is that you?
[Sounds of klaxons.]
Q: Yup… OOOooooooooffff.
CS: Wow! How many G’s did you just pull there?
Q: Oh… it was a lot. You know the record right?
[Sounds of cannon fire.]
CS: OH F***! What the F**** are you shooting at me!?
Q: Explosive uranium! Answer the question!!!
CS: What ques----
[Sounds of static followed by explosion.]
Q: The record! For most amount of Gs!?
CS: Yeah! Yeah!
[Sounds of screaming.]
Q: Lasers!!!
CS: EAT LASER AND F****** DIE!!!
Q: The record!
CS: Hold on! Wikipedia is taking a while…
Q: Wikipedia is wrong.
CS: Impossible.
Q: They claim it’s a French race car driver that impacted a wall at 75 KMP and survived.
CS: So it is.
Q: Wikipedia archived in ‘12.
CS: So?
Q: Check the Book of Q. YES! YES AIRPLANE! I KNOW I’M IN COMBAT! TURN OFF ALARM! ALARM OFF! I am trying to kill Charlie Sheen… for the love of... can you stop firing at me so I can turn that alarm off?
CS: Sure! Yes! God! I can’t even wikipedia, search The Book of Q, engage in a dog fight, and snort quality blow off of the dash with that entire racket. Curse you!
[Sound of a single beep. Klaxon ends.]
CS: So… according to your book… the one you wrote about your fictional adventures through time… you actually pulled 100 Gs while reentering the Earths atmosphere in a casket?
Q: True.
CS: But the story also claims that you died.
Q: Also true.
CS: Can we continue this over the ocean?
Q: Sure.
[Sounds of clicking.]
CS: Q, as soon as we see The Pacific its back on.
Q: Sure. Sure.
CS: Q?
Q: Yeah Sheen?
CS: Why didn’t you ever invite me into The Guild?
Q: Sorry Sheen. I don’t like you.
CS: And that’s it? You just have the final say?
Q: No, anyone can have a say and you aren’t in.
CS: Like blackballing?
Q: Yeah! Organization is only as weak as its weakest member. Any one person has a problem with you, you have a problem.
CS: I got blackballs tattooed on the back of my hands for a movie once.
Q: Sure. Taps. I saw it.
CS: Cadence.
Q: What?
CS: The movie was called Cadence. My dad directed me in it.
Q: Well… the history books shall say otherwise. I believe that’s the ocean.
CS: Yeah.
Q: Well… I’ll see you in hell.
CS: Sure.
Q: Have at you.
CS: Q?
Q: What?
CS: I am going to level Bemidji.
Q: We’ll see Chuck. Two and a Half Men sucked.
[Sound of inhumane rage filled scream. Cannon fire. More screams. Explosion. Cannon fire. Explosion. Static.]
CS: Remember me-
[Flight Recorder End 18:40]
So. That wraps that up. Man. Good thing he was over 51% cyborg. This was a good day. Looking back on it, I wish that I had been able to talk to him back then. Tell him that winning was more than just sticking your dick in the big bowl of cheerios. Because you have to earn respect with great deeds. Locking working girls in closets, even if they steal your wallet, can rarely be considered great. Robert Downey Jr. did that shit for a living for a couple years. But then he became Iron Man. Now you’re just a dead cyborg at the bottom of The Pacific. At rest now with the Hollywood that slid into the sea. You and Denise both I guess. Mission is still a go.
[End Report.]
[Report Follows.]
Jesus Christ on the wooden cross I just exploded Charlie Sheen all sorts of dead and it feels so good I could shit. And I will. Why not when you’re in a pressurized suit wearing a diaper? I should really be sitting down at a typewriter to transcribe this classic prose, but we’re going to let fly over the in-flight data recorder and straight pipe it to the future-phone while I get high off of pure O2. Hold on. Have to change the mixture.
[Sound of clicking.]
There. As I speak to you I am currently piloting a QF-16B somewhere over The Pacific. The QF-16B is really just a classic F-16 Fighting Falcon trainer variant that permanently sacrifices weapons systems for fuel pods. It has the benefit of being made after the perfection of carbon fiber which means its maximum speed has been increased to Mach 3 while its range has increased to everything. The Guild RD that built it for me claims that it can reach Mach 4, but I would have to be breathing liquid. Has two seats. If I wanted to I could get another person in here, but most everyone I know is dead. Otherwise I could take someone for a ride at Mach 3. 4 if they are into breathing oxygenated nutrient liquid with me. Basically my only armament is my Vulcan Cannon which I keep loaded with explosive uranium shells wrapped around a white phosphorus inner layer wrapped around a plastique core. It fires at a rate of 200 rounds per second and can atomize a church in about two.
With this amazing piece of aeronautical engineering I just blew Charlie Sheen all over Gods damned kingdom. This is a good day. I thought that man was going to live forever. He is as close to a nemesis as a swashbuckler can have. Made all the right moves over the course of the late eighties and early nineties only to revolt against the system and go ape-shit early in the 21st. Of course everything was so close to the global collapse at that point that it was big news when he snapped. As if an actor had never been fired before. Made a Guinness world record for most twitter fans. Celebrated with his drug dealers until the big collapse. In the in-between he managed to create a ragtag militia of fans and got his hands on some pretty neat equipment. Managed to stay underground for long enough that the tech caught up with the destruction and here we are. Me in my QF-16B. Charlie Sheen and the corpse of Denise Richards in his XR-71 Deathbird.
I just have to take a minute and see how much Charlie Sheen I’ve really seen. My memory fades because I am fast approaching 45, I take a bevy of memory erasing drugs to function, and I am super high on an O2 concentrate while cruising towards the sunset at Mach 3 and Charlie Sheen is finally dead. So… uh… The Chase. I don’t even know why I remember that movie first. Him in a stolen car driving with a hot blonde. Three Musketeers. Will admit I loved it, if not for the stain of disney. Hot Shots parts one and deux. Classic Sheen right there. Taps. Never seen it? Join the club. Tattoos the backs of his hands though. But not for reals. Was he in Wall Street? Probably not. Uh. Two and a Half Men. What a bad show. My folks watched it I guess. I thought it was a painful atrocity of a situational comedy. That kid [presumably the half] went on to kill so very many nice people.
As I think of it now… I probably didn’t hate him as much as he deserved. I guess the initial resentment came when he left that terrible show in a terrible way. Because I used to act, and it was still considered a profession when I did it. Threw away the last of his class to appear as the next Gonzo. But Charlie Sheen has never been Gonzo. Once you take disney money you can never go Gonzo. It’s fun doing drugs, but it helps if you actually create something or better something while doing them. People used to do them every day in an insane society where a person with enough money could take a pill to make them happy but the poor were thrown in jail for doing the same thing on the cheap. And maybe that’s what drove Charlie Sheen to the madness. Maybe he echoed it. I tried smoking Charlie Sheen once. But only that once. If Denise Richards had my babies I would treat her right. I would not FUBAR everything I cherished to go on a binge of self-indulgent and meaningless ranting. I would not plasticize her corpse and use it as a masturbation tool. You are no warlock sir. I know warlocks. I have worked with them. I have fought warlocks and you sir, are no warlock.
I suppose I should explain the actual battle. I think I’ve filed at least three other reports regarding Charlie Sheen and his Hot Shots. I think Charlie Sheen was the last one left. I pinged him on the radar about… oh WTF time is it now? 18:42? Oh the gun camera will have a time stamp. I don’t know. Probably about five minutes from initial radar contact to engagement. I know that his plane was faster and better armed than mine. The XR-71 is just a carbonized SR-71 with lasers. Lasers are… awesome. I will admit that I was a bit intimidated when the serial scan came back that Charlie Sheen was in the Deathbird. I know that he keeps Denise in it. He only takes that jet out when he wants to kill many things. Lasers… you in the past probably never saw what lasers can do. Back then it was all prisms and telemetry guidance and laser pointers. But actual lasers with actual power are… really terrifying. Superheating atoms with focused light is all fun and games until you can counter-explode ordinance or start entire villages on fire. Then it becomes a profession.
So once it was established that it was the plane I hailed him. We both changed to direct vectors and… oh man. I remember math problems like this. Agent Q piloting a QF-16 and traveling at Mach 3 leaves Hawaii at 19:00 PST and Charlie Sheen, piloting a XR-71 traveling at Mach 3.5 leaves Wyoming at 21:00 MST. If every clock on the planet is broken and everyone is dead, why would you ever need to know when they can fire guns at one another? So I hailed him about the time it was obvious we were going to have to dog fight to the death and I think I can do a direct patch of the dialogue from the flight recorder. Here we go. There you go Charlie, sent your last words back through the future phone. Speak kindly of me in hell. Uh. The computer system was built by a damned puritan so it might be edited for content. Sorry.
[Sounds of Clicking.]
[Flight Recorder T/R 18:35]
Q: Charlie Sheen! You Crazy f*****! I’ll kill you!
CS: Not if I kill you first Q. Your mother sucks cocks in hell!
Q: Donna is a saint in heaven you sad has-been! You sound old!
CS: You sound scared. You know I’m in the Deathbird.
Q: I’m not scared of you, old man. Maybe you should look at your radar.
CS: Oh ho! Not running away?
Q: You’re going down this time Sheen.
CS: After I fry you in your cockpit like a microwave burrito I’m going to start Bemidji on fire.
Q: Bemidji is still on fire you dolt.
CS: Talk to me Denise.
Q: Oh Jesus. You really do drive around with her in the back seat?
CS: Don’t talk about Denise like she’s not here.
Q: She’s dead you sick fiend! She’s been dead for two decades!
CS: I’m a warlock you idiot! I commune with the dead!
Q: You plasticized her you sick, sick fiend!
CS: She was mostly plastic to begin with, I just finished the job.
Q: You know what I’d like to talk about Sheen?
CS: Don’t. Let’s keep this above the belt.
Q: Is that you?
[Sounds of klaxons.]
Q: Yup… OOOooooooooffff.
CS: Wow! How many G’s did you just pull there?
Q: Oh… it was a lot. You know the record right?
[Sounds of cannon fire.]
CS: OH F***! What the F**** are you shooting at me!?
Q: Explosive uranium! Answer the question!!!
CS: What ques----
[Sounds of static followed by explosion.]
Q: The record! For most amount of Gs!?
CS: Yeah! Yeah!
[Sounds of screaming.]
Q: Lasers!!!
CS: EAT LASER AND F****** DIE!!!
Q: The record!
CS: Hold on! Wikipedia is taking a while…
Q: Wikipedia is wrong.
CS: Impossible.
Q: They claim it’s a French race car driver that impacted a wall at 75 KMP and survived.
CS: So it is.
Q: Wikipedia archived in ‘12.
CS: So?
Q: Check the Book of Q. YES! YES AIRPLANE! I KNOW I’M IN COMBAT! TURN OFF ALARM! ALARM OFF! I am trying to kill Charlie Sheen… for the love of... can you stop firing at me so I can turn that alarm off?
CS: Sure! Yes! God! I can’t even wikipedia, search The Book of Q, engage in a dog fight, and snort quality blow off of the dash with that entire racket. Curse you!
[Sound of a single beep. Klaxon ends.]
CS: So… according to your book… the one you wrote about your fictional adventures through time… you actually pulled 100 Gs while reentering the Earths atmosphere in a casket?
Q: True.
CS: But the story also claims that you died.
Q: Also true.
CS: Can we continue this over the ocean?
Q: Sure.
[Sounds of clicking.]
CS: Q, as soon as we see The Pacific its back on.
Q: Sure. Sure.
CS: Q?
Q: Yeah Sheen?
CS: Why didn’t you ever invite me into The Guild?
Q: Sorry Sheen. I don’t like you.
CS: And that’s it? You just have the final say?
Q: No, anyone can have a say and you aren’t in.
CS: Like blackballing?
Q: Yeah! Organization is only as weak as its weakest member. Any one person has a problem with you, you have a problem.
CS: I got blackballs tattooed on the back of my hands for a movie once.
Q: Sure. Taps. I saw it.
CS: Cadence.
Q: What?
CS: The movie was called Cadence. My dad directed me in it.
Q: Well… the history books shall say otherwise. I believe that’s the ocean.
CS: Yeah.
Q: Well… I’ll see you in hell.
CS: Sure.
Q: Have at you.
CS: Q?
Q: What?
CS: I am going to level Bemidji.
Q: We’ll see Chuck. Two and a Half Men sucked.
[Sound of inhumane rage filled scream. Cannon fire. More screams. Explosion. Cannon fire. Explosion. Static.]
CS: Remember me-
[Flight Recorder End 18:40]
So. That wraps that up. Man. Good thing he was over 51% cyborg. This was a good day. Looking back on it, I wish that I had been able to talk to him back then. Tell him that winning was more than just sticking your dick in the big bowl of cheerios. Because you have to earn respect with great deeds. Locking working girls in closets, even if they steal your wallet, can rarely be considered great. Robert Downey Jr. did that shit for a living for a couple years. But then he became Iron Man. Now you’re just a dead cyborg at the bottom of The Pacific. At rest now with the Hollywood that slid into the sea. You and Denise both I guess. Mission is still a go.
[End Report.]
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